Paradigm Shift
by jtav
Summary: Christopher Shepard is a man who does what he has to for the mission, and Omega and what lies beyond just became his only hope of ending the war. But for Miranda, the battle is more personal: save the man who taught her what it was to serve humanity.
1. The Butcher

_Invasion was the first ME comic I liked. Largely due to the portrayal of Oleg Petrovsky. He and Miranda represented what I thought Cerberus should have been. While I'd like to be optimistic about his appearance in the Omega DLC, I don't have much hope for him. So this is a pre-emptive fixfic for him as well as a fix for Miranda's onesided and infuriating characterization in ME3. The plot is my own and contains no spoilers for the DLC._

* * *

"Hostages only work if your enemy cares if they live." I'd told Kolyat Krios that a lifetime ago. It was what Balak had gotten wrong, what Vasir had gotten wrong. There was nothing more important than the mission. The ghosts of civilians might haunt me afterward, but every N7 was trained to make that call. But no amount of training could prepare me for Henry Lawson clutching my girlfriend's sister to him while leveling a Carnifax at my head.

"Excellent timing, Commander." Even now, his voice was smooth and honeyed. No wonder so many people had trusted him to provide them a haven from the Reapers. "I suppose I should thank you. Now that you and my wayward daughter have eliminated the husks, we have a way out."

"Put the gun down, Henry. Nobody else needs to die today." I looked at Miranda out of the corner of my eye. She sat crumpled against a desk, and blood stood out starkly against the white of her jacket. The part of me that was plain, ordinary Christopher just wanted to run to her and make sure she was okay. But Commander Shepard couldn't afford to tear his eyes from the madman with a gun. "Miranda, are you okay?"

She didn't answer me out loud. Instead she hauled herself to her feet with the jerky movements of a marionette or badly programmed mech. Her breath came in loud pants, but she never so much as whimpered. "I'm here." Her gaze turned toward Henry, and her voice was a little stronger. "Let Ori go, Father."

Henry looked at her as if she were gunk he had found on his shoe. Just another failed experiment like the dozens James, Tali, and I had passed on her way here. But if you look closer...ah, there it was. Fear. The mad scientist had created something he couldn't control, and it had come for vengeance. "No. I intend to walk out of here, and Oriana will be coming with me. Perhaps I can undo some of the brainwashing you inflicted on her. She tried to shoot me. If you hadn't forced your ridiculous fantasies of normalcy on her, she might've been of use."

"Like the refugees were of use?"

Oriana sucked in a breath. "Shepard, 'Randa, _please_."

_Please_. How many times have I heard that word? The slavers at Torfan who wanted the mercy of they denied others. Nef's mother begging me to bring her daughter's murderer to justice. Liara pleading with me to promise I would always come back. Every time I had disappointed them. Not this time. Oh God, please not this time.

I studied the pair of them. Oriana fidgeted in Henry's grasp, making it hard to line up a headshot. I could have shot her in the leg to remove her from the equation long enough for Miranda to hopefully neutralize her father. Last resort. The truth was that there was no good place to shoot a hostage. I'd seen men die from leg wounds because the medics couldn't get there in time, and every drop of medigel was precious in this war. I had to keep Henry talking, hope he eventually slipped up and left either me or Miranda an opening.

"You really think you deserve to walk after all this? What was this little horror show of yours supposed to accomplish?"

Henry's eyes flashed. "A horror show? I will be remembered as the man who found a way to control Reaper forces. I saved the human race. I should never have entrusted my legacy to my daughters." His gaze flickered toward Miranda. "I gave her my intellect, and what did she do with it? She brings back one man. The Butcher of Torfan at that! I created perfection, and she squandered it."

Miranda went very still. Her posture was erect, regal, as if she was back in the Normandy's CIC barking orders at Hadley and Matthews. "No, Father. We might have the same intelligence, but I'm the one who used it well. I'm the one who conquered death. I'm the one who stopped the Collectors. The only thing you ever did was terrorize a child. I was a fool to ever be afraid of you." Her voice was ice. "And now, you're going to die."

Her body whole body glowed with biotic power as Henry went rigid. His face froze in a mask of rage and terror as Oriana broke free and dashed forward. "Finish him, Shepard," Miranda whispered. "I can't keep this up for long."

I double tapped him in the forehead. Instant death. Much better than the bastard deserved. He was quiet as he died, the bionic field that kept him still silencing any screams or pleas he would have made. It was over. Just this once, we'd pulled it off.

Miranda's biotics flickered and died. "It's over. It's finally over." She turned to me, and my stomach shot up someone near my throat and stayed there. I had seen just a few moments of her fight with Leng, but this was… Her face was mottled with bruises and a gash cut across her right cheek as if someone had slashed it with a sword. Her right eye was swollen half-shut, and the rigid posture I had taken for self-possession was the rigidity of pain. Her knees wobbled dangerously.

Commander Shepard fled, and Christopher was back in his place. I dashed across the room to her. _God, please, let her be okay. I'm going to kill Leng_. I caught her as she fell, sliding her into a sitting position against the desk. "It's over." My head whipped up. "Lieutenant, radio Cortez for a pickup at the tower and tell Dr. Michel to have medbay standing by."

Miranda glared at me with her good eye. "That's really not necessary."

I gave her my best smile. It even felt pasted on. "You did the same to me after the Collecter ship. Told you I'd pay you back."

"Bastard." She gave me a half-smile of her own. "Did you worry?"

I ran all the way. "A little." My combat knife made short work of her blood-soaked jacket. More gashes marred the pale, smooth skin of her torso. Not very deep gashes, thank God. Blood splattered everywhere, but she'd be fine with proper treatment. Which didn't make it any easier to see. "You broke into a Cerberus facility alone, shut it down, and survived an attack by Reaper forces. I don't know whether to give you a medal…or…or…"

Saying it out loud made it real. Miranda had been brave, almost suicidally so. She could have died in a thousand different ways, not just these stab wounds. A banshee might have impaled her like they had the commandos at the monastery. The guards could've overwhelmed her through sheer force of numbers and integrated her. Husks could have torn her to pieces. Cerberus might have… Heat pricked my eyes, and I swallowed to keep the tears at bay. "I could have helped."

She winced as I applied the medi-gel. "I know, but you had your own problems with the Catalyst. I knew Father was running some kind of experiment here, but by the time I understood the scale of it, I was too far into the facility to call for backup. I did what I had to. It just got a bit more complicated than I expected."

"Complicated?" Oriana piped up. "Shepard's right. You're a hero. What Father did here was horrible. Until he brought me here, I thought places like this existed only in history class. I heard the screaming. All those people begging for their dignity, their life."

Miranda looked past me and, for the first time since my arrival at Sanctuary, she looked not just bloodied, but vulnerable. "I'm sorry, Ori. I tried so hard to keep you away from all this. I screwed up. Once we're off the Normandy, I'll get you some place safe."

"Safe? I don't want to be safe!" Oriana spoke with such force that I looked up. Her eyes were hard and dark, and her chin was set. She'd never looked more like her sister. "I want to find the people that did this and tear them apart. We're twins, right? I've got the same genes you do. It's time I started using them." She looked at me. "Isn't there something the Alliance can use me for?"

"Ori—"

Oriana held up a hand. "Please, I have to do something. Father told me that he went to work for Cerberus when the Illusive Man agreed to get me back. Everything that happened here is because of me. I have to make it right."

"It was never your fault."

"I didn't say it was my fault. I said it was because of me."

My brain whirred. Having another person as gifted as Miranda on our side, even if she lacked Miranda's operative training, was a clear win for the war effort. And I had already sent the kids at Grissom to war. "You're good with computers, right? Our cyberwarfare divisions are taking a big hit. We could use the help. And we could use your help cracking these databases. If you and Tali could sort through the data, I'd appreciate it. We're looking for anything that could point to Cerberus' location or tell us more about their plans."

"I can do that."

Miranda waited until they'd gone to close her good eye. "I used to dream about watching Ori grow up. I hoped the worst thing she'd ever have to deal with was getting a boy to notice her." Her laughter dissolved into a coughing fit. "Shows what I know."

I applied the last of the medi-gel. "She's a Lawson. Boys will fight over the honor to throw themselves at her feet." I smoothed her hair. It was a ragged mess, but as soft as the first time I had run my fingers through it. "Though I hope she finds a better knight in shining armor than you did."

She smiled at me, and it was a real smile. "I never really was the princess in the tower type." She sobered and patted her trouser pocket. "And if you're looking for Cerberus, I can help you. I was able to put a tracer on Leng before he left. If you hurry, you can track him directly to Cronos Station."

"And the Catalyst." And maybe I could finally get some payback. "Thank you. This is exactly what we need."

But when I grabbed the tracking device, there were no reassuring beeps to let me know the tracer was working.

"Hello, Miranda," Leng's voice said. "If you're hearing this then I guess Henry wasn't man enough to finish the job. Nice trick with the tracer. You almost got me. But in the end, you always were second best. Cerberus doesn't need weaklings like you anymore. We're going to win this war, and we're going to put humanity back on top. Say hi to your boyfriend for me."

"That bastard," Miranda rasped. "I'm going to kill him. I hope Michel is every bit the doctor Chakwas was, because I don't plan to be in medbay long." She looked down at the gash that was even now sealing itself. "And then we'll see who the weakling is."

I threw the tracer down in disgust. "Yes, we will." Leng had gotten the better of me twice now. He wouldn't get a third chance. "There's got to be a way to find the Catalyst. We were so close. I just need more time. Something to stall the Reapers. Or hell, something to stop them without the Crucible."

Miranda stroked my cheek. "We'll find other allies, other resources. We know where one major Cerberus base is: beyond the Omega-4 relay. As tenuous as the alliance is, we have Leviathan and its control spheres. I wonder what happens when you put a few of those things next to integrated troops?" she asked with a cruel smile.

I looked at her in amazement. A bloody pulp, her father dead, and Leng taunting her, and Miranda was already concocting other plans. "I was wrong. That tracer isn't exactly what I need right now. You are."

She shifted to brush her lips against mine. "It took you that long to figure it out, Commander?"

"'Randa you won't believe all the—well, it looks like you two are having fun."

Miranda pulled away from me. "Just relief. Did you find something?"

"A lot of results there I don't really understand. You'll have to go through that yourself. What I did see was pretty gruesome, though. And the words Lazarus Project were mentioned a lot. Whatever that was."

The patches of skin that weren't bruised went pale, and the hair on the back of my neck stood up. "Lazarus was the project where your sister, well, resurrected me. Why would Henry want data from that? He said it was a waste of time."

"I don't know," Oriana said. "I only saw the data for a few seconds."

"I do," Miranda said quietly. "The Illusive Man still thinks that it might be the key to controlling the Reapers." She looked at me. "That 'black box' technology that scared me enough to contemplate a control chip? It was Reaper tech."

* * *

Hackett was as immaculate as ever. If he were attacked by a Banshee tomorrow, the man would still find time to launder his dress uniform. He stood at parade rest, the only sign of any emotion a subtle clinch of his jaw. "I wasn't in favor of your diversion to Sanctuary, Commander, but you proved me wrong. All that slaughter. I knew Cerberus was depraved, but this is beyond anything I could imagine. At least we've cut their supply of new troops, and snagged the second-in-command."

"Former second-in-command, sir. And we still don't have the Catalyst." I swallowed and did my best not to shiver. It felt colder in the comm room than it had on Gellix. "What about this Reaper tech Miranda said I have in me? If I'm indoctrinated…"

He looked at me in the same way he had after Arathot: a mixture of pity and resolve, like a man contemplating putting down the family dog after it had gone rabid. "Talk to Lawson. Find out anything you can about what she did to you. It's possible that this is more akin to the geth's upgrade than Cerberus integration procedures."

"And if it isn't?"

He didn't miss a beat. "Then I'll have to request Major Alenko be reassigned."

I didn't ask what he meant by that. I didn't have to. _If an agent goes rogue, they send another one to take him down. That's Spectre justice._ I shook my head. I wouldn't think about that unless I had to. "And the Illusive Man thinks the Lazarus Project might be the key to controlling the Reapers."

"The Illusive Man has always had a passion for mad science. Dead Reapers are how we win this, Shepard. Don't forget that. Hackett, out."

"I'll try not to, sir," I said to the empty room. I stood there for a long time, listening for the hum of engines and for other things. The only whispers I heard these days were Ash, Mordin, and Thane. Sometimes Padok Wiks was there to call me a murderer who had committed genocide. But no Reapers. No feelings of being watched. No superstitions awe. But how long could I have Reaper tech inside me and run around things like Object Rho and still dodge the bullet? There was only one woman who could tell me.

Miranda was still in the medical bay, half propped up by pillows. Some of the bruises were already fading, and both her eyes were open. Her chest had been heavily bandaged, though. I didn't know whether to throttle her for keeping secrets or throw myself at her feet and swear vengeance on Leng and the Illusive Man.

So I pulled up a chair. "You're looking better."

"Dr. Michel assures me I'm going to be fine." She sighed. "You never were any good at small talk, Christopher. I know why you're here."

"You told me I had Reaper tech in my skull. I know you love keeping secrets and leaving me in the dark about what you're doing, but this takes the cake."

She flinched. "To protect you! I knew you'd worry."

"Goddamnit, Miranda. If I'd gone crazy and worked with the Reapers, we'd be done for. I still might."

"That's why I wanted the chip. Known medicine could only take us so far. It would've taken years to get you functional. Colonists were already starting to disappear, and intel was sure that it was connected to the Reapers somehow. So, the Illusive Man suggested we take a…shortcut. I was half terrified, half ecstatic. You've seen for yourself what the technology can do in the right hands: increased strength, faster healing, virtual immunity to toxins and sedatives. And well, if it could be done for you then it could be done for anyone. A true advancement of humanity."

"And all you had to do was lie to me and risk my sanity. It must've seemed like a deal."

She flinched again, almost imperceptibly, and I knew I had gone too far. "I never risked you once you were off the table. What do you think Chambers was for? There's a fifty page psych evaluation of you somewhere in Cerberus databanks. Ask Liara if you want a copy." Her voice was low, throbbing with barely suppressed emotion. "And do you think for a moment that I would let you touch me if I thought you were indoctrinated?"

No. No she wouldn't. "And the Illusive Man thinking that I'm the key to controlling the Reapers?"

"That… that was when I started suspecting Cerberus had gone mad. He's always wanted power for humanity, but he became obsessed with harnessing the Reapers. Anti-indoctrination countermeasures, weapons, anything that might actually help us defeat the Reapers, was suspended in favor of finding a way to harness them. He became convinced that a hybrid, someone who combined the best aspects of both synthetic and organic, could do just that. He wanted a fusion of Reaper and humanity, and Lazarus was our only success."

"So was Saren."

"Yes, but you kept your mind. The Illusive Man was convinced there was something special about you." She looked down, her fingers playing idly across the blanket. "He ordered me to implant living subjects with Lazarus tech. I told him that a living body would never survive the strain. He insisted. I refused. That was the first time he sent assassins after me." She reached for my hand. "It's probably just his insanity. You saw how far away Father was from controlling anything like a Reaper. But I swear to you, the Reapers don't control you."

I looked down at her hand. Pale, smooth, and unmarred after everything. I couldn't quite bring myself to squeeze it. "I think I'm going to have a look at the psych eval." I tried to smile. Wasn't sure how convincing it was. "I just, I need some time to process all this. But I'll be by again later."

I took my time getting to Liara's office. Miranda's revelation had set me back on my heels. I was supposed to be some kind of hybrid? I could almost hear Saren's voice**.** The strengths of both and the weaknesses of neither. But Miranda seemed so sure that I wasn't crazy, even if the Illusive Man was. And she was right about one thing: if other people could have what I had, then that was good. The advancement of humanity had been her goal first, but it had become mine. It had been a way to make sense of the universe after the Alliance and Council had decided to stick their fingers in their ears. I thought had a purpose both for the war and after. And without purpose, I would've just been another thug. But I'd always been different because of what I did instead of what I was. I wondered if this was how Miranda felt.

Liara's fingers flew across the keyboard as she peered at the monitor. This was how I always found her: my little scholar lost in streams of data. But there was a hollowness to her now, as if one eye was on her work and the other was on the burning spires of Thessia.

"Christopher," she said without looking up. "How's Miranda?"

I threw myself into the chair opposite her desk. "She'll recover."

"I'm not surprised. She always was driven." The corners of her mouth turned down as her voice turned softer. "I hope the two of you find some happiness Shepard."

I cringed. Everything had been aboveboard. Liara had wanted me to tell her everything would be all right, and I had loved her too much to lie to her. So we'd ended things. I found Miranda and Liara found a renewed joy in her work and the plans for the Crucible. We were friends. Which didn't make things any easier sometimes. "I didn't really want to talk about that."

She looked up. "What's wrong?"

I told her.

There was a distinct lack of shock or horror on her face. "I'll get the evaluation for you. It was part of the data I was able to save from Hagalaz."

Two and two finally made four in my head. "You already knew about the Reaper tech, didn't you?"

"I wanted to be kept updated on your reconstruction. The Illusive Man was happy enough to oblige. I think he and Miranda saw me as a potential asset on Illium. Miranda and I were in contact someone regularly. Not quite friends, but colleagues. I'm afraid I may have lost my temper when she told me what she planned for you. I was sure you would come back a monster."

"Does everybody know about me being part Reaper?

She chuckled for the first time since Thessia. "You really should stop surrounding yourself with people who trade in secrets for a living." She reached over and grabbed a datapad. "Here. Everything Kelly and Miranda had on you."

I looked at it, but my head was spinning too much for it to be anything but a wall of text. "You know me better than anyone except Mom. Do you think I'm all right?"

She gulped, and dozens of emotions played across her face in rapid succession. "I think you're the same man I met on Therum all those years ago."

I supposed that was the best answer I could hope for.

* * *

_January 5, 2185: Shepard has boarded the SR-2. He expressed some skepticism about Cerberus having altruistic goals. While both Operative Lawson and I hope to convince him of our sincerity, this is a good sign considering his negative interaction with other cells. He seems surprisingly healthy considering all he's been through._

_January 21, 2185: Shepard has just returned from a meeting with the Council. He seems unusually irritable, but otherwisenormal._

_February 17, 2185: Shepard, along with Operatives Lawson and Taylor, have returned from assisting Project Overlord. Shepard spent 3.5 hours in the lounge area and emerged heavily intoxicated. Neither he nor Operative Lawson are willing to divulge what happened down there. I can't do my job if I'm kept in the dark like this._

_March 9, 2185: Shepard and the rest of the ground team are in high spirits. Something about a thresher maw._

_March 10, 2185: Shepard in a rage again. A salarian scientist was attempting to cure the genophage. Shepard destroyed the data. The vehemence with which he defended his actions may indicate conflicting feelings._

_April 7, 2185: I think Shepard may actually be indoctrinated. He's expressed a desire to activate the geth we found. I'm terrified of what it might do if he gets in our systems._

That was the last entry. A few days later, the Collectors had come. We had stormed their base fully prepared, but it had come at the cost of half the crew. I'd watched as Chambers had banged on the glass, screaming as she dissolved inside a pod. There had been thirteen casualties in all. Later, I'd asked EDI to model what would have happened if we'd gone directly through the relay. There would have been a seventy percent chance of outright mission failure.

Thirty-seven people aboard the Normandy. Thirteen dead. That worked out to a thirty-five percent casualty rate. I made the right decision. Simple math.

I hated math.

_Math?_ whispered Padok Wiks. _You shot me in the back. What would Mordin think of that? What will Urdnot Wrex think when he finds out?_

No. Wrex wouldn't find out, at least not until long after this war was over. And then I would find a way to make him understand. You couldn't live in the moment. Even when fighting against the Reapers, I had to do what I could to minimize potential threats. An unchecked birthrate would be disastrous for the krogan and for us as they fought for water and food to sustain their exploding population. All of Wrex's carefully laid reforms would be smashed to pieces. I did read my philosophers, and I wasn't eager to see Leviathan played out across the Milky Way.

Excuses. Murderer.

Maybe I wasn't indoctrinated. Maybe it was just going the regular kind of crazy. And if that were the case, then there was only one person that I wanted to see.

Miranda was still up. She sat in bed, reading by the low light of the medbay. Her lips moved silently as she read. The blanket had had fallen off her, exposing more bruises and cuts, but also the sweep of her neck and curve of her shoulder. She was still, but there was a tension there, as if she were prepared to either attack or dive into some new project at any moment. Whatever else had happened, she was here and she was safe.

"What are you reading?"

She looked up at me. Some of the tension in her shoulders unspooled, and a few of the lines around her face vanished. "War and Peace."

"You're kidding? I didn't think anyone actually read that."

"Says the man who majored in philosophy." Her smile grew bigger as she handed me the datapad. The screen was filled with Cyrillic characters.

"Now you're just showing off." I sat down beside her. "I got a look at Chambers' notes."

"Oh?" So much in a single syllable. On the surface, there was her usual detached irony, but scratch that and you found worry underneath. Not the festering wound of guilt she had unveiled in the apartment a few weeks back, but I still felt unbalanced. Miranda actually caring what I thought of her—of caring for me—was still a pretty new thing, and spending the last eight months either locked up or trying to kill Reapers meant that the novelty hadn't worn off yet.

"Yeah. If she, Liara, and you all think that my brain is still mine, then I guess I can't argue." I leaned forward in my chair. "Just… no more secrets, okay? Between this and the beacon on Thessia, I've had enough to last a lifetime."

"Asking a spy to be honest with you? You drive a hard bargain, Commander." She reached for my hand, and this time I didn't pull back. "It's a good thing I think you're worth the price."

"Likewise, Ms. Lawson." I leaned over and kissed her. It was our first real kiss since that night in the apartment, and I let myself savor it. Her lips were soft as she molded them to mine, and she tasted just as good as ever. Like citrus. One hand came up to tangle in my hair as she made noises in the back of her throat. I made noises too. So nice to finally be able to touch her again without Cerberus breathing down our necks.

"So," she said when she pulled back. "Anything in particular you want to know now that I'm supposed to be honest?"

I thought. Part of me wanted to ask more about the mysterious Reaper tech and how the Illusive Man had managed to twist his mind into knots. Was there anything in me that could be helpful for fighting the Reapers or finding the Catalyst? I resisted the impulse. The Illusive Man was either insane or indoctrinated, and I had other priorities tonight. Like convincing my girlfriend that trust didn't always mean discussing earthshaking secrets.

"Well, you could start by telling me why an Australian whose translator cost more than my car is reading Tolstoy in the original."

I thought Miranda would smile and laugh, but she was suddenly still and quiet. Her eyes looked at me, but her brain was somewhere else entirely. "Oleg," she murmured.

"Who's Oleg?"

She blinked. "Oleg Petrovsky. He oversaw most of our military operations. And he was the man who brought me into Cerberus."

I leaned forward in my chair. Miranda hardly ever talked about her past. I had to make do with a hint here, an allusion there. I had to hear about something as innocent as her relationship with Jacob secondhand. Having her volunteer information was like finding platinum in my backyard. "Sounds like a story there."

"Not a very exciting one, I'm afraid. He was in Sydney discussing the possibility of him using some genetic upgrades my father developed for Cerberus troops. When I decided I had to leave, I knew that I would need protection, and Cerberus was the only thing Father ever seemed afraid of. So I went to his hotel and begged him to take me with him. I told him how much use I could be to him and his organization. I would be unquestionably loyal." She swallowed. "And I would be more than willing to sleep with him if he would only get me out of that hell."

My fists clenched. My teeth clenched. White-hot anger shot through me like a poker. "You were what, fifteen? If he touched you, I'll tear him apart myself."

She laughed. A real laugh, even if didn't quite reach her eyes. "Have I told you how very anachronistic your sense of chivalry is? You and Oleg would get along famously. He turned me down. But he told me that if I was willing to serve humanity, then he would do what he could for me. He was the one who pled my case to the Illusive Man. I slept on his couch for a month. He could spend hours talking about military history and tactics. Everything I know about leading soldiers I learned from him. And it was his vision of Cerberus that I followed: that we were first and foremost humanity's servants and that we were to always be willing to put our own lives on the line in its defense."

"And he introduced you to Tolstoy." So this was the man who had helped make Miranda the woman I had been willing to follow into hell and later loved. "Do you know if he got out?"

She shook her head. "No. The last time I spoke to him was just before we went through the Omega-4 relay. And after I went on the run, I didn't dare risk it." She bowed her head, and her shoulders hunched as if a dozen elcor were pressing down on her. "He never would have stood for what Cerberus has become. The thought of him turned into a husk—" Her fist balled up, and a spot of color blossomed on her cheek. "I'll make the Illusive Man pay for what he's done, I promise you."

I looked at her. If this were a vid, the hero would promise that he would do whatever it took to bring his beloved's mentor back safely. But the real world was more brutal. Oleg Petrovsky might have been a good man, but indoctrination affected good and bad alike. If he were still with Cerberus, integration would have stripped him of any honor he possessed. The best Miranda could hope for was that he had a quick death. And she was another person who I loved too much to lie to.

"I promise... I promise that I'll do everything I can to make sure the Illusive Man, Leng, and the rest of the bastards get what they deserve." There. That was one promise even I could keep.

* * *

"Oh, for God's sake, Christopher, I'm not an invalid. Stop looking at me like you expect me to collapse at any second. You aren't going to have to carry me bodily into Purgatory."

Easy for her to say. The truth was that Miranda did look better. The bruises were old and yellow and faded when they weren't gone altogether. She'd borrowed one of the uniforms EDI sometimes used when in infiltration mode. The black suit clung to her almost as well as her old Cerberus catsuit. But her steps were a little more careful, her gestures a bit more measured.

"Yes ma'am," and did my best to look nonchalant. Just two ordinary people going out for drinks. Even Leng couldn't screw that up.

But someone else could. A moment after we entered, a batarian I recognized vaguely as one of Aria's bodyguards stepped in front of us. "Shepard, Aria wants to see you. Now." He cast a pointed glance at Miranda. "And alone."

Miranda gave me a sideways glance. I shrugged. I'd dutifully helped organize the gangs under Aria's rule in exchange for the assurance that said gangs would help with the war effort when the time came. I had no idea what she could want with me now. But it looked like I would have to postpone my date. The Pirate Queen wasn't the type to go back on a deal, but there was no reason to piss off an asset unnecessarily.

Miranda touched me on the shoulder. "I see duty calls. I'll meet you at the bar later." She kissed me on the cheek and was gone. I watched her go, the subtle sway of her hips as she walked. Sometimes I hated duty.

Aria had reserved a private room above the bustle on the dance floor. I could still feel the pounding of the bass. Aria herself lounged on one of the couches as if she were the queen of the station and not just a crime lord in exile. And surrounded as she was by guards and hangers-on, it was easy to believe it. "Shepard."

"What do you want, Aria?"

A smile played across her lips. "Always so direct. I like that about you. I'll be blunt: Shepard. The time has come for me to retake Omega, and I want your help."

I was pretty sure my jaw dropped to the floor. She couldn't possibly…Aria was smarter than that. "The Reapers are breathing down our necks, and you want to spend troops kicking Cerberus off a space station. Worse, you want me to take resources away from the fight to do it. The Normandy—"

"I don't need the Normandy. Just you. I've assembled a more than adequate fleet. And I definitely don't want the Alliance able to take any credit for this. They'll feel like I owe them, and it will be impossible to root them out afterwards. Just you, me, and a few thousand of my closest friends." She straightened. "Better than wandering around aimlessly liberating fuel depots."

She had me there. "And what exactly do I get out of this?"

"Use your imagination, Shepard. Cerberus only wanted Omega to protect their precious salvage from the Collector base. I think it would be much better in our hands than theirs, don't you? And Omega has been chafing under Cerberus rule for months now. My sources inform me that they've instituted a blockade. How popular do you think that will make them? You'll have people begging to join the war."

Tempting. Very tempting. Certainly a lot more tempting than waiting for a lead to the Cerberus base to fall into my lap. "I'll think about it."

"Don't think too long Shepard. We'll be moving soon." Her eyes were hard and glittering. "I'll give you the details when you decide you're in. I don't trust this room."

I nodded and stood. "I'll be in touch, Aria." We both knew that my answer would be yes. It was just a matter of contacting Alliance Command and making sure that there were no more urgent fires for me to put out. And making sure Aria knew that I wasn't her lap dog.

"I think you should take her up on that offer," Miranda said when I rejoined her. "Oh, don't look so surprised. What else could Aria want from you except your help in taking back her precious Omega? And beyond Omega is Avernus Station. I, for one, am looking forward to the prospect of paying the Illusive Man back for sending us on a suicide mission so he could get his hands on Collector technology."

I supposed now was as good a time as any to tell her. "She wants me to go in alone."

Her eyes narrowed, and I could see the wheels turning in her head. "I suppose the odds of this being a set up are minimal, as are the chances of this going worse than Arathot. And Shepard…" She stroked the line of my cheek where my scars were beginning to show again. "If there's anything to the Illusive Man's madness, you'll find what you're looking for at Avernus Station."

A shiver raced down my spine and across my arms. Answers. Final, definitive proof that I wasn't indoctrinated. Maybe something we could use to beat the Reapers. "I'll remember that." I smiled at her and signaled the bartender. "But for now I think I just want to share a bottle of wine with my favorite woman in the galaxy."

* * *

It was late by the time we left the club, and the Presidium was well into its night cycle. I was pleasantly buzzed, and Miranda looked as good as I had ever seen her. She talked in a low voice of Oriana's adjustment to life on a ship, old memories of Mordin and Thane, and a dozen small topics we never seemed to have time to talk about.

"I'm not joking." Her eyes danced with the light of alcohol. "I took Donnelly and Tali for everything they were worth. I am a very, very good poker player."

"I bet you couldn't take me, Ms. Lawson. I supplemented my stipend at the Academy with my Skyllian Five winnings.

"Is that a challenge, Commander?" Her voice was low with just the slightest hint of breath. "I never could resist a challenge."

I shivered. It was dark, and there was hardly anyone around. It would be so easy just to throw her up against the nearest wall and make up for lost time. "It might be."

"Well then I'll—"

"Shepard!"

My insides froze at the sound of that voice. Wrex. Enraged Wrex screaming my name. Oh no.

That was all I had time to think of before an angry krogan charged toward me. I dove out of the way and behind a parked sky car at the last moment. I saw Miranda spring to the other side out of the corner of my eye. I felt my jacket pocket. The Paladin was a cool and reassuring weight. If Fate were kind, I wouldn't have to use it.

Wrex roared. "I know what you did, you miserable little vorcha spawn! Did you think Wiks was my only source inside the STG? I hope those piddling little salarian fleets were worth the extinction of my entire people."

Think. I had to think. There was a way to end this without violence. I just had to find it. Lying wouldn't help, not if Wrex already knew that I had sabotaged the cure. "I had to do it, Wrex. It was for the good of the galaxy."

"Good of the galaxy? My people are going to go extinct!"

Sweat formed on my palms, cold and slick. "They won't. The genophage keeps the population level. If the birth rate goes back to what it was, krogan on Tuchanka will be starving in a few hundred years. All the hard work you've done is going to go down the drain. I'm sorry, but that's just the way things are. I ran the numbers—"

Another roar, and I heard the telltale sign of a shotgun being primed. "Numbers! That's what we are for you? Just another item on the ledger? It's not even a good fight for you is it, Shepard. Just business?"

"I'm trying to protect the galaxy here, Wrex. Including the krogan."

I'd faced thresher maws, geth colossi, and Reaper destroyers, but nothing was scarier than the sound of insane krogan laughter. "That'll be such a comfort when we're all dead. The quarian used to wonder how you did what you did on Torfan. I told her a fight was a fight, but it's not even a fight for you, is it, Shepard? Just another item on your list of things to do? Well, if my people go extinct, so do yours. I'm calling off my support for Earth."

Shit. Without krogan support, Palavan was lost. And without Palaven, our chances of being able to successfully deploy the Crucible were cut in half. And that was the optimistic estimate. "It doesn't have to be this way, Wrex."

"He's right, it doesn't have to be this way," Miranda said calmly. There was the telltale whoosh of biotics and a clatter as the shotgun fell to the floor. "If you really want to help your people then go back to Tuchanka. C-Sec will be here in a few minutes. What will dying here accomplish?"

"It will accomplish me dying with some honor. I wouldn't expect a human to understand. Stay out of this if you know what's good for you. All I want is Shepard, but I'll kill you too if I have to."

I stood up and leveled the gun at him. If it had to go down this way, then so be it. "No, you won't kill anyone, Wrex. Walk away."

He looked at me, and just for a moment I saw the dull redness of his eyes. I didn't know how it was for krogan, but I'd seen that look often enough after Torfan. We called them zombies: men who might eat, breathe and sleep, but were just as dead as the corpses. "You should have killed me that day on Virmire."

His body glowed with biotic power as he rushed me. I sidestepped and fired into his face. It didn't even slow him down. Another shot. Another. And still he came at me, screaming. Not words. Not anymore. Just primal, bestial rage. The fourth shot slowed him. The fifth brought him to his knees.

He coughed and sputtered, sending weak flashes of biotic power that didn't even muss my jacket. "I…know…what…you…did…" He spat in my face. "This is how you'll be remembered, Butcher. As the man who killed the krogan. Well, do what you do best. Finish me."

I looked into his face as I fired the last shot. I watched as the light went out of his eyes. I watched as his body slumped to the ground. If you have to do dirty business then you damn well look at it and own it.

Miranda looked down at the body. "You did the right thing."

"Yeah." Maybe someday I'd even believe it.

I hated math.

* * *

The shuttle was dark and cramped. Aria sat opposite me, flanked by her two batarian guards. "So glad you decided to accept my little offer."

"You were right. I need the extra support." I wouldn't let Wrex's words come to pass. I'd see that the Crucible was finished and I would save the galaxy. And somehow I would find a way to save the krogan, too. I'd help them find a way to live with the genophage. And maybe we could all stop dying. "About these details you promised?"

"You have been waiting patiently." She handed me a datapad, and I was rewarded with the slight of a tall, bearded man in his middle fifties lowering back at me. "This is the man who stole Omega from me. General Oleg Petrovsky. He broke the one rule of Omega, and I'm going to make him pay. Slowly."

Shit.


	2. The Hellhound

Every time I turned on the mini-QEC, it took me a moment to remember I was looking at Ori. Wearing an Alliance uniform wasn't in any future I imagined for her. And today her brow was knit together in thought. "Can I ask you a question?" She bit her lower lip. "What did you do in Cerberus?"

I froze. Of course she would be curious about my past; Lawsons have always wanted to shine light into the dark corners. I just assumed that she would be so busy that the subject wouldn't come up until the war was over and either Cerberus or I was safely dead. Either way I would be spared having to explain myself. "Why do you ask?"

"I was talking to Tom—sorry, I mean Lieutenant Morris—and he asked me if I was the Hellhound's sister." She gulped. "He said that you killed a lot of people and that Cerberus would never have been as much trouble as it was if you hadn't been with them for as long as you were."

Her eyes were the exact color and shape of mine, but I wondered if I had ever worn that pleading expression, if the desire for something not to be true had ever shown so nakedly on my face. Most people had to explain nothing worse than an embarrassing tattoo. I had to explain membership in a terrorist organization. "Some people did call me the Hellhound."

"And the other stuff? The murders?"

"Sometimes I was sent to assassinate politicians. Most of them were men like Udina who cared more for their own advancement than for looking out for humanity. And sometimes I had to kill in self-defense. Mostly, though, I was infiltration and espionage when I wasn't in the lab. We didn't have ranks, but everyone knew that I would be the one to take over if anything happened to the Illusive Man."

She went pale, and I saw something die in her eyes. Guilt twisted in my chest. I'd never been good or nice. That had always been her birthright. But I wanted her to have a sister she could be proud of. Instead she had me. "Did you know what they were? Were they always like this?"

I didn't answer her right away. It was a harder question than it should have been. I had written Teltin off as a rogue cell, and the Illusive Man had been very convincing in his anger. And yet, there had always been xenophobes like Leng who seemed to enjoy the killing a little too much. I had regarded him as little more than a useful tool. It would be easy to say that he was the true face of Cerberus, and that I had been a deluded fool.

And yet, there had been people like Oleg who had given me what conscience I possessed. Lazarus was as real as Overlord. We had done good. I didn't know what the Illusive Man was. It looked increasingly like his manifesto was just a cynical manipulation. But I had believed it all the same. Like Ori, I still wanted the lie to be true. "There were people there who were fighting for humanity just like we are now. Everything we did—yes, the murders, but the research too—we did because we thought it would help put humanity on an even footing with the Council races. Maybe we were just idiots who saw what we wanted to see. I don't know."

This would be so much easier if we were speaking face-to-face. I could put my arm around her and hold her, assure her that I still wanted the best for her no matter what. It seemed like platitudes when she was a six-inch hologram. "But what they are now needs to be torn out root and branch."

"And you're just the person to do it." Ori smiled weakly. "Be safe, Randa." The holo winked out.

The hell was that I was still half-infatuated with the Cerberus I thought I had served. I wanted an organization that believed in humans becoming politically and technologically dominant, but without racism. I wanted something that pushed back against the stagnation represented by the Council. We would break the wall for the greater good, but it would be for good and not just our own power. Right now, that looked like an illusion the Illusive Man had used to seduce me and those like me.

But still, I wanted.

Liara cut in over the intercom. "Miranda, can I see you in my office for a minute?" There was a slight tremor in her voice that I hadn't heard since our mission to recover Christopher's corpse. I wondered what she wanted with me. Ever since I had come aboard, we had done our best to stay out of each other's way.

When I entered her office, Liara was staring at the bank of monitors that dominated one wall. "Miranda," she said barely-suppressed anxiety. "I've found something I think you need to see. One of my operatives has been stationed on Omega for some time. I gave her up for lost when Cerberus took over the station, but she finally managed to smuggle out some footage."

My stomach jolted. "It's not Christopher, is it?" No, of course it wouldn't be. It took time for a fleet to move, especially with the Reapers holding so many chokepoints. Strategy meetings to iron out final details of the assault would add even more time. Christopher was probably holed up on what passed for Aria's flagship trying to convince an Eclipse squad to do what he wanted.

Liara tapped a button on her omni-tool. The map of the Milky Way on the monitors vanished, replaced by what looked like footage from a hidden camera. Two Cerberus officers stood in what looked like a command center. One of them had his back to the camera, and all I could see of him was close-cropped blond hair. But the other… A tightness found its way into my chest as heat pricked my eyes. I sank into the chair nearest the monitors, but I didn't dare take my eyes from the screen.

Oleg stood scowling at the other man. He was largely unchanged from what I remembered. His uniform still bore the polished brass buttons and the medals he had earned during the First Contact War and after. His beard was neatly groomed, and his hair was black and balding. But what seized my attention were the eyes. They were blue. Plain ordinary light blue, with no hint of a glow. There was no sign of the integration implants I had seen on Sanctuary. It couldn't be…

"Corporal Matthews informs me that you stole food and other items from apartments in the Gonzu District." His voice was quiet. Oleg was always quiet when he was furious.

"Contraband, sir. They had to have gotten it from the outside. Nobody on this station has had meat for a month. Including us," he muttered darkly.

"I am quite aware of the privations our soldiers endure, Captain. I endure them myself. Tell me, did you find any weapons?"

"No sir."

"Explosives? Armor? Military-grade omni-tools?"

"No sir."

"Captain, did you find _anything_ that would materially benefit the resistance?"

The captain didn't answer, and Oleg began pacing the length of the command center, his arms clasped behind his back. He was about to start a lecture. I almost felt sorry for the captain. "We are occupiers, and those who still seek to deny us this station depend upon the local populace for support. We are like the British during the American Revolution. We may be technologically superior and better trained, but we are in hostile territory and far from our supply lines. To crush the resistance, we must either eliminate the civilians that serve as their recruitment base or we must convince those civilians of the rightness of our cause."

He stopped pacing and rounded on the captain. "You, however, have done just the opposite. When the resistance needs a place to hide their men and equipment, the people whose food you 'confiscated' will be that much more likely to help them. I'll send Matthews to return what's left with my apologies. Perhaps he can convince them to reveal the smuggler, who will then lead us to people who are actually harming the war effort. Dismissed."

The footage stopped. "I have access to the yahg's dossier on General Petrovsky, but I understand you knew him personally," Liara said softly. "Was that his usual behavior?"

"Oh, yes," I whispered. "He was always very meticulous in his treatment of civilians. He always said that the army's job was to subdue the enemy, not massacre them. We were always to minimize harm." I peered at his eyes. "Do you suppose it's possible that he isn't indoctrinated?"

"I don't have any reports of any Cerberus personnel that escaped it, but my intelligence on them is spotty at best. The lack of implants does seem to point in that direction." Liara stroked her chin in thought. "But it's also possible that the Illusive Man simply found a way to indoctrinate his men that doesn't disfigure them. My mother proved that you don't need to have glowing eyes to serve the Reapers."

"I know." And yet, and yet… I had given Oleg up for dead what I saw my first integrated assassin. And now he was alive and whole before me. Quite possibly sane as well. "I have to go to him."

"What?"

"If there's the slightest chance he still has his own mind, then I have to go to him." Wheels turned in my head. "I want a copy of the recordings I made on Sanctuary and Allers' report on it. And a ship, preferably a fast one. Cerberus ships are well-armed, but they can't outrun a fighter. I should be able to beat the blockade."

Liara seized my shoulder hard enough to make me gasp. "And the man you want to find is the reason you have to beat a blockade in the first place! Even if by some miracle Petrovsky has escaped indoctrination, he's still Cerberus. And you'll be walking into a war zone. The moment Aria and her troops land, the station is going to be torn apart."

"And Christopher will be leading the charge." Freed from having to worry about anyone he cared for, he would become a modern Ares, slaughtering all who would stand between him and his completing his mission. There was a time I had appreciated that dedication. I had believed he was like me, doing what he had to do to protect and preserve humanity. But ever since the Reapers arrived, he had become an automaton. Sometimes he would smile and laugh when he was with me, but on the battlefield he would show no mercy. "I used to be Cerberus, too. The Illusive Man is a master of making people see only what he wants them to see. If I show Oleg the truth, he'll be horrified. I won't give up on him."

Liara looked at me for a long moment and sighed. "I'll have the_ Plain Dealer_ made ready. Feron doesn't need it on his current assignment."

"Thank you."

Liara looked down. "Don't thank me. A long time ago you brought back someone I loved. This is merely returning the favor. Good luck, Miranda."

* * *

Oleg had accomplished the impossible. The Gonzu District was clean. The streets had been swept. The buildings were free from dirt and grime, if still run down. No gang members had extorted a toll for my passage in the district. All manner of violent crime was common on Omega from muggings to rape to murder, but I had seen nothing worse than a fist fight that had quickly been broken up by troopers.

Peace, such as it was, came at a price. A ticker scrolled across every overhang. _Citizens are required to obey all directions given by Cerberus personnel. Curfew is mandatory for all residents. No weapons permitted. Violators will be detained indefinitely. Those resisting detention will be shot._ LOKI mechs patrolled the streets, and camera drones were everywhere. Two troopers marched toward me, the red slits of their eyeholes casting a faint light in the relative darkness.

"Papers," said one.

I showed him.

"Katriana Solheim," he read. "Merchant. Native to Terra Nova. Resident of Omega for the last four months. So you got stuck here? That's rough." It was hard to tell with the synthesizer, but he sounded almost warm. "Well off you g—"

"Matthews, you idiot," said the other soldier. "That's no merchant. It's the Hellhound herself."

I had my gun out before he finished the sentence. His shields and armor took the brunt of the bullet's impact, but the force of a point-blank shot to his center mass was still enough to stagger him. I followed up with a shot to Matthews. He was faster than his friend and managed to twist out of the way so that I did little more than graze his shoulder.

Standard Cerberus rules of engagement would have dictated that he find cover, call for backup, and return fire as best he could. But he tackled me, the idiot. A combination of surprise and the weight of his armor sent me to the ground. I heard a crunch, but there was no time to think about that. We grappled. He had the advantage of size and strength, but the armor had never been designed for hand-to-hand combat and his movements were clumsy at best. And I have been training against men larger than me since I was nine years old. It was the work of a moment to flip him, and it was his turn to grunt in surprise. I had to finish this quickly, before he could call for reinforcements. How to do it?

"Miranda," he gasped. "It's me, Matthews."

I put my hands around his throat.

"Zach Matthews. Pleasegetoffme."

The shock was enough for me to loosen my grip. Matthews? I remembered him always trying to get Hadley to crack a smile and the way he had cried openly at Hadley's death. I assumed he had left. Being here meant he was either integrated or in the same situation Oleg was. And he had already shown more emotion than any of the integrated troops I had seen. I decided to let him up and, never taking my eyes off him, retrieved my pistol from where it had fallen. Matthews scrambled up and over to his fallen comrade who was moaning in pain.

"Come on, Rolston," he muttered. "It's not that bad. You'll be all right as soon as the painkillers kick in."

"Rolston? Vadim Rolston?" Something clicked in my head. "Matthews, just how many Lazarus Cell operatives are here on Omega?"

"All of us except for Donnelly and Chakwas." He stood up. "But you shouldn't be here, Miranda. We've got orders from Kai Leng himself to shoot you on sight. Only time I've ever seen the general upset. And I really don't want to shoot you."

"And I don't want to be shot." All of Lazarus Cell here on one station. I wasn't sure if that was better or worse, but it certainly made things more complicated. I had abandoned the science team and the crew for the sake of the greater good. But they were still my team. I had relocated their families, dealt with their complaints, ensured they had everything they needed to function at peak efficiency. And none of them would be with Cerberus now if they knew what it had become. Instead of trying to save one man, there were now eleven people I had a responsibility to. Assuming any of them still had him their minds.

"I'll take you to Afterlife's VIP area. We've claimed it as a lounge for when we're off duty. I'll radio the general. He can decide what he wants to do with you."

Rolston hauled himself into a sitting position. "Don't you dare let her get hurt. She got my daughter off New Canton."

And right back on Earth, though it didn't seem wise to mention that at the moment. "I'll be delighted to go with you, Matthews. And please radio Petrovsky."

The three of us walked down the long and narrow alleys that led to Afterlife, though Rolston hobbled slightly. Neither of them made an attempt to search or disarm me, which was either a show of trust, fear, or rank stupidity. As we moved closer to the club, Omega became not just clean but gleaming. The Afterlife sign had been taken down and replaced with a neon Cerberus symbol. The guard at the door snapped to attention. "Guest," Matthews said by way of explanation and we were waved inside.

The club had indeed been transformed into a lounge. What had once been the dance floor had been transformed into an entertainment area with a vidscreen and poker table. Patel and Goldstein were engrossed in losing their shirts to Hawthorne. A few of the others lounged on couches nearby. All of them had normal, healthy-looking skin and eyes.

A moment passed before they realized anything was amiss. One by one they turned to look at me. Hawthorne paled. Patel opened her mouth and closed it again. I counted in my head. Ten people. All that remained of the crew from the mission through the relay. My crew.

Hawthorne was the first to speak. "Operative Lawson, ma'am!" He bolted from his seat, and he brought his arm halfway up as if he was unsure whether he should salute me. "What are you doing here?"

"I'd like to know that myself," Rolston said. "Why you're shooting Cerberus all of a sudden. Leng said that your relationship with Shepard had made you crazy. None of us bought it, and it sure as hell doesn't explain why you're here in disguise."

I took a deep breath. Christopher was always the one who had the gift of persuasion, but Christopher wasn't here. "I'm here because Cerberus isn't what it was. They've twisted our desire to protect humanity into something horrible. I came to try to save General Petrovsky. And now that I know you're here, the rest of you as well."

"Save us?" Patel asked. "You always told us that Cerberus was the best way to serve humanity. I don't agree with everything the Illusive Man does, but in the Alliance still doesn't have its act together. If they'd listened to us, they might have been able to save Earth."

"Cerberus isn't serving humanity now. They turned a refugee camp on Horizon into a concentration camp. I saw the experiments. They pulped refugees, turned them into husks, or jammed them full of Reaper tech that indoctrinated them."

"Pulped?" Matthews swallowed. "Like Kelly?"

"Exactly like Kelly."

"The Illusive Man would never do that," Patel said, a bit too loudly.

"I don't know." Goldstein said from the bar as she poured herself a scotch. "He was pushing the implants pretty hard. And some of the guys who came out of that were damn creepy."

"And he let us be posted here when we refused, didn't he? That's hardly the mark of a—"

"Enough!"

We all turned. Oleg loomed in the doorway. He was a tall, lean man, but he always seemed much larger. His eyes flashed, and his fists were clenched. A flush covered his cheeks, making him look like some Renaissance depiction of Satan, with his red skin and pointed beard. "Matthews, I ought to have you court-martialed for this. All of you, back to the barracks immediately. I wish to speak to Operative Lawson alone."

They obeyed with a speed that would've made me jealous under different circumstances, and I was left alone with my mentor for the first time in over a year.

The video footage hadn't done him justice. Oleg had never been handsome, but fresh lines had been carved in his face, and there were flecks of gray in his dark hair and beard. His chest rose and fell heavily, and for a long time his harsh breathing was the only sound. I started. Heavy breathing. Flushed cheeks. He had run here.

A hard lump formed in my throat. "Hello, Oleg."

The spell broke, and he closed the distance between us. His arms came around me, and I found myself enveloped in a warm, solid wall of Cerberus uniform. Tears pricked my eyes. It was ridiculous to be crying. He was here, not a husk or corpse or one of my father's experiments. I ought to be smiling. But the tears fell all the same as I clung to him.

"Oh, my dear, my dear," he murmured against me. "I thought I'd never see you again."

"I had to come."

I wasn't sure how long we held each other. Tension left my shoulders. It was lovely to just relax for once after Sanctuary, Wrex, and all my preparation to come here.

"It was foolish of you to come, you know. Aria is on the move, and Kai Leng has given orders to kill you. It is all a terrible misunderstanding of course, but there are those who would be overzealous."

I withdrew from his embrace. "I can take care of myself. And thank you for taking in Lazarus Cell."

He shrugged. "You spoke so highly of their desire to protect humanity. They had no more desire to receive the new implants than I did. It was my duty to protect them. It has exiled us far from the front lines of this war, but that is the price we pay. But you didn't risk your life to ask after old subordinates. Why are you really here?"

"Cerberus has gone mad, Oleg. The Illusive Man recruited my father to run brutal experiments at a refugee camp on Horizon. There were thousands there. Some were turned into husks. Some were implanted with the integration technology. It indoctrinated them, turn them into fanatical servants."

"Lawson, that _peshka!_ His kind has no place in Cerberus. I knew that we were running a refugee camp, but the Illusive Man assured me that it was simply to be used for recruitment. The Illusive Man would never countenance such atrocities. Such things only have a use if your goal is degradation and mass murder. I would believe it if Henry, but not him."

"I have proof."

"Show me." He didn't sound angry or shocked, just tired.

I turned on my omni-tool. The footage I had compiled flickered and wavered. There was no sound. I swore under my breath. Now I knew what that crunch had been. My omni-tool must have been damaged when I fell. This would have to suffice.

I kept my eyes on Oleg as he watched the footage of refugees being hustled into pods, their flesh turning gray and blue cybernetics snaked across the body. My father silently gave his report to the Illusive Man, laying on the process in detail. An outside observer would have said Oleg was impassive, but I knew better. He was, after all, the one who taught me to mask my emotions. Shock, horror, and rage burned and his eyes like fire behind a grate.

"Wasteful, senseless loss of life. We're called to protect humanity, not slaughter it. Lawson went rogue, he must have." The fire leapt from behind the grate and filled his eyes. "If it were not for my responsibilities here, I would kill that pitiful excuse for a human being myself. I should have done it twenty years ago."

I winced. A rogue cell. Of course Oleg would say that. I would have said it myself a year ago. And without the audio of Father's conversation with the Illusive Man, I had no proof Henry's actions were authorized. "No. It was all sanctioned. The Illusive Man sent Kai Leng to get the data. He nearly killed me."

Oleg's eyes widened. "Killed you? Another man I should have killed long ago. The order he gave to kill you…rooted in wounded pride and stupidity." With an effort he forced the anger into some dark corner. "But the use of the data proves nothing. After the Second World War, the Americans granted immunity to Unit 731 in exchange for providing them with research on biological warfare. I would prefer such research be destroyed, but we must take every advantage we can get."

"Yes, but the Americans didn't order the scientists to commit new atrocities." I put my hand on Oleg's shoulder. "Cerberus is no friend to humanity."

He bowed his head, but made no move to get away from me. "What would you have me do, Miranda? I was given the task of pacifying Omega to secure our stations beyond the Omega-4 relay. And I have succeeded! For the first time in millennia, this station is not a haven for criminals. There is law, however harsh it may be. But if what you are saying is true, then I have done nothing but assist the enemy." He shook his head. "No. The Illusive Man ordered me to do what was best, and I did it. Anything else is unthinkable."

Was this what I had sounded like on Pragia? Perhaps I was not entirely innocent regarding Jack, after all. I turned Oleg to face me. "Yes, you did good, just like I did good in bringing Christopher back. How the Illusive Man perverted what you did doesn't change that. And it's still useful. Omega as a stable staging ground would be invaluable to the Alliance."

He laughed bitterly. "Yes, the Alliance who bowed and scraped to the Council and left us to protect humanity against those who couldn't even follow their own rules. And now they and the rest of the galaxy throw all of their resources into building a weapon when they have no idea what it does or how it works. It's a fool's gamble, and a good strategist is never a fool. Wiping out all life in the galaxy is not a victory. Controlling the Reapers is the only plan we have."

He stroked my cheek. His hands were hard and calloused from years of holding a gun, but also warm and strong. "I believe you left Cerberus for what you thought were good reasons. But I cannot abandon Omega. The warlords would overtake it within the hour. And I will not abandon Cerberus without proof that they are acting against humanity's best interest."

Then I would simply have to find that proof.

An alarm sounded. Oleg jumped away from me. "Intruders, and I believe I know who." He turned on his comm. "Report."

"A fleet of ships are coming through the Omega-2 relay. I think it's Aria, sir."

Aria. Which meant Christopher. The battle for Omega had begun, and my mentor, my men, and my lover were about to try to kill each other. Unless I could find a way to convince Oleg of the truth and protect Lazarus Cell from the slaughter to come.

Well, I had been engineered to do the impossible.

* * *

_This is likely my last chapter before Omega comes out. Just a reminder that this is AU and characterizations are likely to be very different._


	3. Author's Note

People who know me know that I have a bad habit of abandoning stories. And for once I am delighted to do just that. This story was conceived as a fixfic for what I assumed would be an inevitable mangling of Petrovsky's character. This did not happen. While I have quibbles, he came off very well in Omega to the point I feel a bit silly continuing. By sheer coincidence, my planned ending was similar to what happens if you Renegade Aria but spare Petrovsky. So take that for an ending if you must. As for myself, I had planned for this to be my last story in this fandom. This is no longer the case. I'll be finishing off an abandoned WIP. I also have plans for gen starring my primary Shepard and Petrovsky, as well as a post-Synthesis bit of fluff. Health permitting, you'll also see the history between Petrovsky and Miranda alluded to here fleshed out.


End file.
